


Dear Auror Weasley

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-24 18:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4929853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evidence in the case of the abduction of Harry Potter: journal entries by Lucius Malfoy, lead suspect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Auror Weasley

_18th May, 1998_

There is venom in his eyes, even as he pleads for me to be acquitted of all charges.

I will admit that it’s a nice touch, but I had my freedom assured even before Potter took the stand. There may have been a war, but the world is still the same and money still talks.

Potter’s voice is less passionate and hopeful than when he testified for Narcissa and Draco, but the Wizengamot still eat up his words.

In the end I am cleared of all charges, but I already knew that. I make a statement to the court that I will endeavour to help the Ministry run efficiently once more, and most faces look pleased - all but one.

Potter comes to me with a determined stride when it’s all over. He is taller than he used to be, though not quite as tall as me, and his limbs are long but not lanky. He has gained weight since May, still thin but no longer looking skeletal, and though his hair is still messy, it has been cut to frame his face nicely.

I feel a stirring down below, and in that moment I realise that I find Potter attractive. The thought disgusts me.

The Malfoy family may have a history of marrying half-bloods when necessary, but I have a Dark Mark on my arm for a reason. This _boy_ who was born from a Mudblood shouldn’t be beautiful, and he shouldn’t make me notice.

Potter has pureblood friends; Weasley, who is gangly, and Longbottom, who is fat, and it’s disgraceful that Potter is the attractive one of the three.

“I didn’t do this for you,” Potter tells me, and I don’t know why he thinks I care. “I didn’t want Narcissa and Draco to lose you to prison again. Don’t make me regret saving you.”

Saving me? Potter is arrogant; a silly teenager who thinks the world owes him despite his ignorance.

I don’t give him the dignity of an answer, and I leave with a sneer on my lips.

Potter may be beautiful, but his blood is sullied and that should be enough to repulse me from acting on my attraction. It isn’t.

Later that night, I touch myself with thoughts of Potter’s face. After I’m done I feel myself tremble with rage, and it’s all Potter’s fault. It doesn’t stop me doing the same thing the following morning.

 

_1st June, 1998_

Bellatrix was psychotic and deranged, but her death hit Narcissa hard. It is her grief that drove her to contact her blood-traitor sister, Andromeda.

With Andromeda comes the mutt’s child Teddy, and with Teddy comes Potter.

Potter is smiling at the baby when he arrives at the manor, but his smile fades as soon as he lays eyes on me. I smirk, and wonder how he’d react if he knew I’d recently fantasised about him bent over my desk. Despite my self-disgrace, the idea that he’d be equally horrified somehow makes it satisfying to me.

There is one thing I can say for Potter, though, which is that he looks at ease with an infant in his arms. He seems a natural caregiver, and I wish Draco had that instinct which might drive him to make a good marriage, rather than keeping his current lacklustre attitude to his familial duty.

Potter avoids my eye and stays quiet for most of the afternoon, speaking only when spoken to. He is clearly uncomfortable with my presence but he stays polite for the most part. There are moments when he lets out bitter remarks about Death Eaters, during which he looks my way, but I am surprised by his mostly civil timidness.

Perhaps I put too much faith in Severus and Draco’s perceptions of Potter, but I expected him to be boastful and arrogant. He is even kind to the house-elf, and I realise that Potter truly does good for selfless reasons. He is more of a fool than I thought.

He may be a fool, but he is innocent and pure, and I am overcome with desire to defile him.

 

_21st June, 1998_

Potter enrages me, he truly does. He’s a wretched creature, with tainted blood that runs like dirt through his veins.

Yet somehow, I find myself volunteering for admin work in the Auror Department, purely so I can watch him. I can’t get Potter out of my head, and I don’t understand why. There are many beautiful men in the world, but Potter somehow defies them all.

Filing paperwork and sending memos to Aurors isn’t so tedious when Potter’s nearby. He is the soul of whatever group he’s in without even trying to be; I doubt he even realises. People laugh at his jokes, praise him on his training performances, and practically beg him to be their companion at meals or events.

I find their behaviour pitiful, yet I am struck with an odd sense of jealousy when I see Potter smile at them. I see a man touch Potter’s arm and give him a flirty smile, and my fingers clench when a blush creeps onto Potter’s face.

Potter doesn’t deserve gentle flirting and silly little romance; he deserves to squirm, and I want to be the one to make him do it.

I cast a Disillusionment Charm on myself to follow Potter without being seen, waiting for an opportunity to fulfil my desire. When he walks into a crowded lift, I hurry after him, not wanting to miss my chance.

Nobody notices me as I squeeze through, going to a spot a row behind Potter. As the lift begins to move, I slide my arm between the two women in front of me and let my fingers graze Potter’s arse.

He twitches slightly but makes little other movement, no doubt putting it down to the closeness of everyone in the lift. I move my fingers in small circles, and Potter subtly drops his hand to try and push mine away.

I can just about see the red staining his cheeks from where I’m standing, and it spurs me on with twisted satisfaction. I press my hand flat against his arse and grasp a cheek, squeezing the firm muscle. I see Potter tense, barely moving as I grope him.

He turns his head slightly, and his wide eyes slide right over me and land on an older woman who is clearly ogling him. Potter says nothing to her, but flushes even redder and practically sprints from the lift at the next stop.

The satisfaction is pleasing, but after a while it doesn’t seem like enough.

 

_30th June, 1998_

Narcissa is pleased when I forward an invitation to Andromeda myself. She believes that I truly appreciate her new desire to reconnect with her sister, but the truth is I just want to see Potter again. If Teddy comes, so does Potter, so I make sure to extend my invitation to the infant.

As usual, Potter avoids any form of contact with me, despite opening up to Narcissa over his frequent visits. I know he must be aware of how I watch him, and the effect he has on me. Does he truly think that he can pretend I don’t exist, despite our connection? I suspect he is attracted to me, because how can’t he be with the way he moves his hips in front of me? The Dark Mark on my arm no doubt makes him think it’s a sin to be attracted to me, and the thought of that irritates me to no end. If there’s one of us who shouldn’t be appealing, it’s him.

Potter looks at me in surprise when I extend the invitation in person to include dinner. Narcissa smiles with approval, and orders the house-elf to start preparing the food.

I retreat to the cellar to select a wine, choosing a red brewed by my family in France. I imagine that Potter would have never tasted proper wine like this before, and I wonder just how keen his sense of taste is.

I close my eyes, picturing a scenario where I slip a mind-numbing potion into Potter’s wine. He would come over ill, and I would offer him residence in a guest suite which Andromeda would graciously accept. Then, while the women talk of feminine things I have no interest in, I would sneak away to Potter’s room, finding him waiting helpless on the bed. He would be powerless as I sink inside him, _fucking_ him against his will.

It is tempting, but I choose against it because of one thing.

The risk of being caught is too high.

 

_1st August, 1998_

I am pleased to receive an invite to the Ministry’s Summer Ball. It means that I am forgiven, my position in the Ministry’s social circles reinstated once more.

Potter is there with the Weasley bint on his arm. Her face is revoltingly smug, and I actually find myself feeling sorry for Potter. He could do so much better than the daughter of a poor man and a woman who can’t keep her legs shut. The girl, of course, has lucked out by preying on Potter’s naivety and convincing him that she is good for him.

They don’t dance, but sit together at a table, drinking beer and chatting animatedly. Potter seems entirely smitten, and it’s disgusting. The girl has him wrapped around her little finger, and even worse is that nobody else seems to see it; they are given adoring looks constantly.

They stand up and leave the main hall hastily, hand-in-hand, and I make the decision to follow them. I cast a Disillusionment Charm over myself once I’m able, but I doubt they’d notice me anyway. They can’t seem to walk for long before one of them feels the need to press the other against a wall to kiss them senseless.

The little slut finally leads Potter into an empty room, and I slip inside before the door shuts.

They waste no time, Potter unzipping his trousers as the girl hitches up her dress and slides her knickers down. She spreads her legs like a whore, and makes noises like one as Potter pushes inside her. It’s revolting to watch, but I can’t tear my eyes away.

The little harlot seems to be enjoying herself, but no doubt any man could be between her legs and she’d enjoy his cock just the same. Potter, on the other hand, I feel sorry for; I can tell his heart isn’t in it.

What Potter needs is to be fucked himself. I can almost guarantee that if I stunned his trollop of a girlfriend and fucked _him_ up against a wall, it wouldn’t be long before he’d be begging me to go harder and faster. My cock grows hard at the thought, but I don’t want my first time touching him to be when his cock is sullied by the whore’s cunt.

She won’t be his for much longer; I intend to see to that.

 

_3rd August, 1998_

I confront Potter in an empty room at work, shoving him inside with a hard push.

“Watch it,” Potter hisses, his hand reaching for his wand.

“I saw you and that girlfriend of yours sneaking off at the Summer Ball,” I say, and Potter releases the hold he has on his wand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Potter retorts, but his cheeks have turned red and he refuses to look me in the eye.

He moves to push past me, but I stop him with a hand on his chest.

“You’re lucky I was the only one walking nearby,” I murmur, making sure that my tone sounds mocking. “Your girlfriend was moaning like a prostitute, loud enough that I could hear her in the hallway. It’s not the kind of thing one wants to hear on their way to get a bit of fresh air.”

“Having sex isn’t against the law,” Potter says with a snarl.

“No,” I agree. “It isn’t.” And I let my fingers drop to rub Potter’s nipple through his shirt.

“What the hell are you doing?” he hisses, taking a step back away from me.

“I didn’t hear any noises coming from you,” I say. “Maybe you need someone who knows how to treat you right.”

“I’m not gay,” Potter retorts quickly. “And even if I was, I’d never go for you.”

Rage fills me at his words, at the fact that this half-blood boy thinks he’s better than me. I know he wants me, and his lies make me angry.

“Don’t lie to yourself, boy,” I snarl, unable to help myself. “I know a cockslut when I see one.”

Potter’s face twists in a grimace, and he shoves past me angrily.

He pauses in the doorway and turns to me to say, “I told you not to make me regret saving you from Azkaban. Say anything like that to me again and I’m going straight to Minister Shacklebolt.”

Fine. If Potter doesn’t want to talk, then so be it.

I can’t wait until he regrets the decision.

 

_9th August, 1998_

Nobody ever bothers me in my admin duties for the Auror Department, and I don’t think they realise just how much access to personal files that I have. I can’t access information for the general public, but anything about the employees is game.

Which is how I find Potter’s address, and how to access his private but non-limited Floo. I know Potter is at work all day, and I waste no time in taking the Floo to his home.

It’s a small flat overlooking East London. It’s nothing special, but the thought of being in Potter’s flat without his knowledge excites me more than it should.

I head straight to the bedroom, staring at the bed with intrigue. I wonder if Potter has ever brought men to his bed, despite his insistence that he isn’t interested in them. I reckon he must have, because the way Potter acts around me, swaying his hips and wearing those tight-fitting clothes, can’t be accidental. Potter wants to turn me on, but he’ll get other men to fuck him while he debates whether it’s ethical or not to bed a Death Eater.

I open the drawers by his bed, finding nothing of interest but a jar of lubricant. I pull a face at that; I’d much rather open Potter up with my tongue and fingers. It would hurt Potter more, but I’m sure he can handle it.

In another set of drawers I find his underwear, and a navy pair of boxers catch my eye. There is nothing special about them - they are simply near the top - but I bring them to my face and press the fabric against my nose, inhaling deeply. They smell of the sickly sweet scent of laundry powder, but a subtle hint of musk is just about noticeable.

I sniff them again, closing my eyes as I picture stripping Potter as he wears them, and shoving them in his mouth. I see him on his hands and knees as I fuck him from behind, tugging on his hair, while he makes muffles noises of pain and pleasure through the material.

My fingers close tightly around the fabric, and I shove them into my pocket. I leave the drawer ever so slightly ajar, but leave everything else as it was.

If Potter does notice, I know he won’t go to Shacklebolt first - he’ll come to me.

That’s exactly what I want.

 

_10th August, 1998_

Playing Potter is pleasingly easy.

It is his turn to shove me into an empty room, and he presses me against a wall with a wand to my neck. He hasn’t yet hexed me, which means he isn’t planning on it unless I give him reason. I won’t.

“Was it you?” he hisses. “I know it was you.”

I decide to feign innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

I am rewarded with a jab in the neck. “Someone was in my flat. I know it was you. I’ve seen the way you’ve been staring at me, and after you propositioned me the other day…”

“I have no interest in you or your flat,” I lie. “You’re paranoid.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

Potter’s eyes are blazing. Nobody’s come running at the sound of his voice, so I know he’s come alone. It’s time to take action.

I swing my arm and knock his wand out his hands, and it clatters on the floor. Potter’s eyes widen, and I grab his arms and switch our positions, slamming him against the wall with my knee between his legs. I block his torso with one arm along his body, while my other hand covers his mouth.

Non-magic methods are underappreciated, I’ve always found, and are always worth knowing.

“You don’t want me to lie to you?” I hiss into Potter’s ear. “Fine. From this moment on, you’re mine.”

Potter struggles against me, and I step back, bringing him with me only to slam him back into the wall face first. Potter lets out a weak groan as he collides with it, and he crumples to the floor as the impact knocks him out.

“Oh dear,” I say, crouching down to gingerly touch the bloody mark on his head. I have house-elves that can heal that; not at the manor, but elsewhere.

Because that’s where we’re going, Potter and I.

He’s mine now, and you will never find us.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Leave a comment for the author here or on [Livejournal](http://hp-darkages.livejournal.com/15642.html).
> 
> Follow the 2015 Lucius/Harry Halloween Fest for more.


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